Flip of a Coin
by Eruwaedhier Telemnar
Summary: Everyone thought that Harvey Dent had died... but what if they were wrong? Harvey is alive, but what will happen to the fallen hero now? Because Two-Face is too cool of a character to get rid of lolol.
1. Fall from Grace

Jim Gordon watched as the Batman, the Dark Knight of Gotham, ran, no _stumbled, _away into the busy night of the urban jungle. From behind him, he could hear the baying of dogs and the faint shouts of his men. He prayed that the mysterious hero could get away quickly, even when wounded. Because the GPD would be out for his blood, with two dead cops being placed on his head.

Even after his men had come up from behind him, he did not move for some more minutes. He merely held the hand of his son, comforting him as he hoped that the child could understand what was going on with Batman. He only left the blonde's side when he heard a familiar voice call out to him.

"Commissioner!"

Gordon recognized the voice, it sounded like Officer Romirez, one of the best in his unit. Giving his son an affectionate pat on the head, Gordon jogged over to where she was standing. As he neared her, he noticed that her face was all swelled and bruised. Concerned for her safety, he increased his speed and began to run full-out.

"Hey, boss, long time no see." Romirez joked, smiling lightly and then wincing as her cheek stung with the effort.

Gordon's heart jarred painfully as he saw her, seeing what had been done to one of his officers. No matter how high he rose in the ranks, he would always care for these people, the everyday cops and detectives that he worked with. And he especially respected Romirez out of all of his task force members. At first as with all of his men, he had been slightly worried about their records... most of them having been investigated by Internal Affairs. But, then again, most of the cops in Gotham had been investigated at least once. He was one of the few ones who had managed to keep their noses clean. Romirez hadn't been so lucky, and had almost been tried.

Even though he had been apprehensive, Romirez had always been someone that he could count on, someone he could trust. She was tough and street smart, being one of the best detectives in his force. But, Officer Romirez also proved to be just as kind as she was tough, often spending time with his family and lending a hand, whether it was running to get groceries when his wife was sick or babysitting the kids. She was a good cop, and a good friend, always acting as a trusted counselor and moral compass. Often saying things that the other cops wouldn't, like hassling Jim to go home and to not pull too many all nighters on a case.

Telling that this was not the place to discuss what had happened to her face, the Commissioner left the topic alone. Instead, he gently asked her "What's up Detective?"

"It's Dent, sir. Medic says that when he was pushed that he landed on his back... he could have injured his spine pretty badly, but he needs immediate medical attention."

For a moment Gordon just looked at her, completly in shock. "Wait, are you telling me that he's not dead?" Jim was so confused. How could Harvey not be dead? He had fallen two stories, and the way that his one eye was still open, glazed over like in death...

Romirez shook her head, her loose ponytail bobbing behind her. "No. The Doc's just as surprised as you are. I guess that Dent must really be one lucky guy..."

Her last sentence trailed off ominously, as both of the police officers noticed Dent's famous coin, lying besides its master. Gordon could only make a guess, but he was pretty sure that Romirez knew that it had actually been the District Attorney who had killed those people. They both silently shared a look- a look that said _what the hell are we going to go about him? _


	2. What to do with Harvey Dent?

He was barely aware of what was going on around him, the world seemed blurry and out of focus. Now that he really thought about it, he actually couldn't even see anything. Even the noise around him was vague, just an annoying buzzing sound in his ears. Not that it really mattered. Rachel was dead.

Wait....

Maybe he was dead too?

No, that would be something to good to hope for. His coin had decided, it said that he should live. And, chance was always right. No, maybe not right... right wasn't the best word to use. _Fair _was a far better word. Because there were no prejudices with chance.

Suddenly, a sound pierced through all of the white noise that he could discern. It was clearly the sound of a car door being slammed shut.

Oh crap. Were the cops taking him away? Was he being arrested? He had never really thought about being arrested before, he hadn't the time to think. The first time that he had even considered the consequences of what he had done was when he had heard the dogs barking... and then....

and then Batman came. He couldn't remember that part so clearly. All that he remembered was this feeling. Not unpleasant, not bad, just... foreign. He had felt well... nothing. But, feeling nothing was better than what had been before, the constant agony of his face burning, and the stinging pain of Rachel's loss eating a hole away at his heart.

For the second time in under a month, Harvey Dent felt the feeling of something being put over his face, and he calmly breathed in, the anesthetic lulling him into a sleep. But for all of the relief from his physical pain, Harvey couldn't help but notice one last, painful memory before he succumbed to the effects of the drug.

Rachel wasn't lying next to him.

.....................................................................................................................................................

Commissioner Gordon nervously paced back and forth, continuing his heated discussion with the Mayor on his cellphone.

"Sir, I understand that we have a problem with Dent, but what do you want me to do!? We can't just leave him to die...maybe even with some help he can return to office..."

"Return to office? Jim, I understand that you're an optimist, but really? For Christ's sake, he KILLED people by flipping a coin! He's completely insane- I would sooner let him go out in public than I would let the Joker go, or give a pyromanic a stick of dynamite!!"

Realizing that he was beaten, Gordon sighed tiredly and massaged his forehead, hoping to stave off the threatening headache that was coming with this recent development. "So, what do you think that we should do then?"

There was a slight pause on the other line, as the Mayor decided what to do. Finally, he carefully began to line out his plans.

"Well, we already told the press to say that we got him out of the hospital safely. So, we can't change that story now unless we want our asses to get fried by the media. And we also can't say that Dent went insane, that would really kill morale, and in addition the criminals that Dent put away might get bail or be released. I guess that we have no other choice. Gordon, bury this deep. Not a word of any of this gets out to the press. Take Dent to some facility out of state, and find some discreet people to take care of him."

"What? We're just going to lie? What are we going to say, that he got out of the hospital safely and then disappeared?"

"No, we're going to say that he got out of the hospital and then was killed by the Batman."

Gordon was left shocked, but before he could respond the Mayor had already hung up. He shook his head.

If only the people of Gotham realized how much went on in their city...


	3. The Problems of Gotham's Finest

Commissioner Gordon tiredly flipped his cellphone closed, happy that he had finally made preparations for the medical attention for Harvey Dent. It had been a long, hard process, having to storm his way through a slew of legal and confidential issues. He was also pretty confident that at least half of the reporters in the city were now somewhat richer- most of them had required bribes in order to keep quiet about Harvey. That was the bad thing about the media- once there was a leek, the story got around and spread like wildfire. And, truthfully, on days like this when he saw how greedy and corrupt the people of Gotham could be, he wasn't surprised that the Joker had chosen this city as his playground.

Speaking of the Joker, Gordon remembered that he should start making plans about his confinement and transportation to a jail... or asylum. Whichever it might be.

Wonderful. Another thing to be put on his to-do list. But, it was nearing two in the morning, and he should be getting home. He could easily leave instructions with a secretary to arrange things with the Joker in cooperation with the necessary units.

But... wait. In all of the excitement he had forgotten about Romirez- he had never gotten a chance to ask her what had happened. He checked his watch. Damn, at this hour she wasn't likely to still be on duty.

Resigning himself to having to go home, Gordon packed up a few choice files and cleared his desk before turning off the lights and leaving his office.

However, the Police Commissioner wasn't totally satisfied- and he resolved himself to personally oversee everything that happened with the Joker, Harvey Dent, and to also speak to Detective Romirez tomorrow morning.

........................................................................................................................................................

Romirez turned her face sideways, examining the large, swollen bruise on her right cheek. They hadn't been joking when they said that Dent had a hell of a right cross. She carefully prodded along her jawline, hissing as the inflamed area burned at her touch. Ouch, that one was going to need ice.

Walking out of her bathroom, she went through the living room and into her kitchen, grabbing an ice pack from the freezer. The slightly injured cop returned to the cozy living room of her apartment. She plopped down into one of her hideously old armchairs, feeling like she had just sunken about a foot into the cushioning. But hey, it worked for her sore body.

Holding the ice pack to her face and grabbing the remote, the detective started flipping through channels on the tv, finally deciding to watch _Law and Order: SVU_. This show was always good for a laugh in her opinion, especially because she was able to make fun of how ridiculous it was when compared to the real goings on of a police and prosecuting force.

She continued to watch the show, until she felt a weird tingling feeling against her leg. Realizing that it was her phone vibrating, Officer Romirez went to answer it- praying that it wasn't the dreaded number with a Narrows area code. She audibly sighed with relief when she saw that her phone had the caller pegged as "blocked"- which meant that it was just an unwanted number, like a telemarketer.

The phone continued to buzz and shake, but Romirez didn't answer it- she doubted that the telemarketer would even bother to leave a voicemail. Stupid jerks- they bother you and make you pay for receiving their calls, and they don't even have the decency to leave a message. Actually, now that she thought about it- neither did the mob. So, that made them both jerks then.

The off-duty cop half laughed, half sobbed at her own joke. What the hell was she going to do? She wanted to stop working for the mob so badly- it made her feel like crap every time that she went into work and had to see the faces of her fellow officers whom she was betraying. But, what could she do? When she had first entered Gordon's special unit her mother had been admitted to the hospital, and she couldn't pay off the bills. Plus, her mother had no health insurance, and the MediCare office in Gotham was so corrupt- hardly a penny left that place unless you were related to someone who worked there.

So she had worked out a deal with the mafia, making the most simple of agreements. They would pay all of her mother's hospital bills, and in return she would grant them a favor when the time came. At first it was a one time thing- they had paid and she had given them a minor tip about a drug bust.

But then her mother had gotten sick and been put in the hospital again. And then things had gone downhill from there. Over time she had accumulated quite a debt to the mob, and she was sure that they would dangle her involvement with them over her head, even when she had finished paying them back in tip-offs. She knew that the bastards would blackmail her into helping them somehow.

This had to stop. Before she had only been giving them information, but a line had been crossed when they had made her give them Rachel Dawes. It was partially her responsibility that she was dead, and for all of his faults she couldn't blame Harvey Dent for coming after her.

Who could help her? If she told the cops she would get fired or worse, if she continued as things were right now she would be found out eventually and then fired, and if she tried to run away the mob would find her.

God, she needed a drink. Because whether she liked it or not, Officer Romirez was being pulled into a deep hole of crime and corruption, and there was no escape that she could see. She was backed into a corner with no where, or no one to turn to.


	4. Betty

The Joker sat in his "cozy" little cell, tapping a sporadic tune out on the floor with his fingers. Man, being in jail could be such a _pain _sometimes. And the cops had even been considerate enough to keep him away from all the other prisoners- he hadn't even been given a flatfoot inside his cell like last time. Huh, the world never ceased to amaze. Cops were actually capable of intelligent thought! What a surprise.

But, secluded as he was, the demented clown was still able to hear the rumors swirling around the station like a noxious cloud. Harvey Dent was dead- or thats what everybody thought.

Of course, the Clown Prince of Crime knew better than to believe this. There were uh, certain _advantages _to being a good chemist, and one of them was being able to make a liquid tagger- a simple enough device that was easy to spot in the bloodstream and could be traced as easily as a traditional tracking chip.

And unless bodies were being taken to the East Coast all of a sudden for burial, Harvey Dent was alive. Because honestly, when you have someone who would gladly kill you sitting by your bedside, are you really going to notice if you have a small prick on your arm? Injecting Harvey had been so easy, the guy didn't even notice. Probably because the burns were just a _little _distracting to his sense of all other pain.

Yes, the second that Harvey Dent was dead, the Joker would be one of the first to know.

..............................................................................................................................................................

Betty Jenson hung up her old, white plastic phone back onto its receiver with just a little too much force. She instantly regretted it, the thing was about a million years old, and she hoped that she didn't break it. But, her frustration couldn't be helped. She ran a very small clinic that was affiliated to a very small hospital in Trenton, New Jersey. She had very limited funding as it was, and getting a new "possibly problematic" patient wouldn't be helping affairs any. Betty loved her older brother, admired him for managing to achieve his dream and get out of New Jersey and into Gotham, but sometimes he could annoy her to no end.

The troubled doctor had just gotten off the phone with her brother, and (as usual), the call was not just to say hi. John had asked his sister for a favor, to watch a patient for him. Betty had asked why this patient had to come all the way here, but of course she had been given a cryptic answer.

"Betty, I really don't know much myself. But, this guy is a politician or something, someone in the big leagues. This HAS to be kept quiet, don't let any other nurses or doctors see him, just you. Thanks so much for doing this, little sis.."

How old did he think she was? The nerve of the man made Betty's blood boil. She was trustworthy enough to handle a case like this! Besides, customer confidentiality stated that she couldn't give out client information anyways. Or at least, not without a court order.

Yes, she decided, she was angry. And she would give her brother a good talking too, once he arrived in New Jersey. The next call that she got from him wouldn't be about business, she would make sure that he "found the time" to call her. Just a call to check up on how things were, to say hello.

Just like what normal siblings do.


	5. Of Annoyed Secretaries

The small clinic was a buzz of activity, as various paramedics and nurses scrambled around, doing their best to make the dingy, underfunded building ready to host a patient in critical condition.

And in the midst of this chaos was none other than Betty Jenson. She calmly walked through the familiar hallways of her business, dodging people and various types of equipment. Her time spent working as an assistant in the ER now served her well, as she was used to how frenzied doctors could be sometimes.

On her way to treat one of her other patients (who were being very good sports about the noise), Betty couldn't help but steal a glance at _that _particular patient. From the glimpse that she saw he was still out cold, and he was just being hooked up to an IV and some other machines that she didn't recognize. Although she didn't mean to, she winced slightly at his appearance. It was just that this was a man she felt that she knew, from him being on television so much, and seeing someone who had once appeared so proud and noble so vulnerable was a bit concerning. Not only was the flesh from part of his face blackened and horribly burnt, but the (former?) District Attorney looked so small, so insignificant and pale connected to a horde of machines.

Also (although she would never admit this to anyone else) Harvey Dent brought up... unwelcome questions about Betty's career. Before, when she had worked in the hospital, she had been very confident in her abilities as a doctor. But now that she saw all the advances in medical technology that she had missed out on, she realized that now she was hardly better than a simple nurse. And that frightened her to death. The clinic was always a haven for people, a place where they could go to if they wanted free help with no questions asked. But, what if Betty wasn't fit to treat people anymore? What if she had been using outdated techniques on people?

Stopping herself in her thoughts, Betty took a calming breath. _Calm down, _she told herself. _You've always done your best, back when you were working in the ER and now. You've done your best, and that's all that anyone can do. _

Slightly reassured, the doctor went on her way. She had three people to see today, and the first on her list was a young boy who had broken his arm, and whose family didn't have health insurance. Drawing comfort from the normal, Betty settled back into her daily routine.

However...

once that routine was over, she would have to deal with Harvey Dent.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Meanwhile, back in Gotham, a secretary was eagerly typing away at his desk. His best friend had just sent him a message on Facebook. and from what he could tell it was important. Pulling up the instant message screen, he immediately launched into a series of questions, fingers flying across the keyboard at lightning fast speed. Behind him, on another section of his desk, the phone rang.

_Who the hell is calling me right now? It had better not be a telemarketer... _

_Oh, right. The job. _Embarrassed that he had forgotten he was at work, the secretary pushed back from the computer, wheeling his chair over to the phone and answering it.

"Hello, you've reached Dr. Lara's office," he said the familiar response with little enthusiasm.

"Uh, hello. I was wondering if I could speak to Dr. Lara, You see I'm with the Gotham Police Department and-"

The secretary sighed. He knew that his boss often helped out the Gotham PD with cases and that he should be polite to this guy, but he was irritated and he didn't feel like talking to this idiot _flatfoot. _"Well I'm terribly sorry but Dr. Lara is with a patient right now. So, why don't I connect you to the office downstairs and you can leave her a message?"

Holding the phone away from his ear, the man could just barely hear the complaints of the cop as he dialed extension 4, sending the message down to his co-worker Jan.

_I'll let Jan deal with this. She owes me after eating the pudding I had in the fridge! _

Smirking at the fact that Jan would finally get her comeuppance, the secretary wheeled himself back over to his computer and went back to his conversation.


	6. Old Friends

Jim Gordon sighed, flipping his cell phone shut and placing it down on his desk. He had just left a message with Dr. Lara's office, and he wasn't too happy about the brusque treatment he received from both of the secretaries he had spoken too. Those who practiced common courtesy, and those who respected police officers, seemed to be a dying breed.

Taking off his glasses and rubbing at his tired eyes, Gordon couldn't help but wish that all of this was over with. He was not as young as he used to be, and pulling all-nighters was becoming harder and harder for him. And now, in addition to everything else he was dealing with, he would probably have to worry about a return call from Dr. Lara. Of course, the idea of calling another physiatrist had crossed Gordon's mind, but he couldn't think of anyone as capable as Dr. Lara. He had first met the doctor years ago, back when he was just a sergeant. They had only met very briefly when the doctor had been called in to do some early profiling on a possibly insane robber who had killed five people in a bank shoot out with police. He had been immediately impressed by the man (who had insisted that Gordon call him by his first name- Henry) and the two had kept in contact over the years, forming a solid friendship. So when Gordon took all of the facts into consideration- that Harvey Dent would need a very good, confidential physiatrist, Lara had been the first person in Gordon's mind.

Thinking back on the events of earlier that day, Gordon couldn't help but smile with little humor involved. How ironic was it that the two most unlikely people would become so successful? If he had told anyone that the only honest cop in Gotham would end up as Commissioner, and that an indebted grad student working for a small branch of the government would become a successful man with a private practice, they would have thought he was crazy. It was also ironic in Jim's eyes that his good friend, despite being an excellent physiatrist, still was very bad at choosing the right people to hire? Henry had a horrible reputation of employing some of the most unpleasant receptionists, and it seemed that his poor tastes hadn't changed.

Jim snorted, laughing tiredly. _Well, at least that's one thing in this world I can count on; Henry having unfriendly employees. _

In his office, Henry Lara lazily grabbed his TV remote and switched off the evening news. It had been a very long day, filled with overly emotional patients spilling out their deepest worries to the doctor. _I must admit, _he grumbled inwardly, _it's days like today that I question my choice in a profession. Because no matter how much money you make, this job can get anybody down and depressed. _

Swiveling around in his chair, Henry looked out through the clear, clean glass windows of his office. He couldn't see anyone else in the building, and he assumed that most of the other businesses in the building had already closed. He also noted that he main secretary was gone.

_Wonderful. I'll have to lock up myself then. _Feeling around inside his pants pocket, Henry quickly found the cool metal of his keys. Reassured that they were still there and that he would be able to lock up later, Dr. Lara relaxed even further into his chair. _It feels good to be able to do this, _he thought, _to relax. _Indeed, it seemed that Gotham had been holding a collective breath over the past week or so, due to the situations with the Joker and the mob. But now, everything had calmed down, and the sense of panic and frantic energy had completely left the city, leaving only feelings of subdued sadness mixed with relief.

_One thing's for sure, _he thought wryly, _I wouldn't want to be the one in charge of this mess. _Thinking of his old friend Jim Gordon, who was now the Police Commissioner, Henry couldn't help but laugh. He loved his friend dearly, and felt no actual pleasure from seeing him in any kind of pain, but the images of Jim running around frantically were just too funny. The physiatrist could just see it now- Jim being bombarded by reporters from all sides, first answering questions calmly, but growing eve r more agitated until his patience snapped and he burst out with some outrageous comment. Then, his imaginary Jim couldn't take it anymore, he took to his heels, fleeing the scene comically with the flurry of reporters running behind him. But- oops!- it seemed that now his Jim was having problems, as he had been cornered by hordes of ambitious young physiatrists eager to take on the Joker case, the Holy Grail of the modern mind.

_Now this is bad. What on Earth would people say if they knew that an esteemed physiatrist had such fanciful daydreams? They'd probably put me away.. _Coming of out his whimsical musings, Henry shook his head slightly and began to rouse himself from his chair. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't spoken to Jim in quite a while. Henry decided that he would have to call his old friend, just to congratulate him on the promotion and check up on things. He hadn't seen Gordon in a while, it would be a nice change of pace for Lara. God, when had he last even seen Jim's kids? How old were they now… twelve and ten if he remembered correctly.

Choosing to call Jim from home, Henry got his coat from a closet and packed up his briefcase. Walking out of his personal office, he first locked that door and then the one that led into the waiting room. Punching the elevator, Henry waited until it finally reached his floor and opened with a soft pinging noise. Stepping inside, he quickly put his keys into the lock near the 12th floor button, locking the way up via the elevator. The only people who would have any business being there were the night janitors, and they all had a set of keys.

Pushing the ground level button, Henry put his keys away in his coat pocket. He waited patiently until the elevator finally reached the first floor, then exited the lift and crossed the main lobby to the main doors. With hardly a second glance, Dr. Henry Lara left the building, going home to call upon one of his oldest friends.

Author's Note: Sorry, I know that a lot didn't happen in this chapter. But, I feel that it's important to the storyline that I focus on the friendship between Jim and Henry, and that I take the time to properly characterize Henry a little bit. I'm also sorry, because I know that Romirez and Dent haven't come up for a couple chapters now.. but, Harvey is comatose (sort of) and Romirez is.. asleep. But don't worry, they'll both be coming back. And thanks so much to everyone that has read, reviewed, or favorited! I'll try to be better about updating, and I think that I'll be able to manage now that the school year is winding down.

Thanks again! Happy reading! :D 


	7. Troubled Sleeps

Henry Lara wearily sank into his chair, glancing at the alarm clock to his left. 12:30.

_Crap, is it really that late?_

Getting home from the office had taken longer than he originally anticipated. After being detoured by a nearby accident, and a quick stop for some late night coffee, Henry found himself arriving home in the early morning.

_I guess that I'll have to hold off on calling Jim. _Henry knew that his friend worked hard enough as it was, and him calling this late at night would be very inconsiderate of him.

Sighing, realizing that he would still have to go to work tomorrow, Henry rose out of his chair, going to get ready for bed.

_I'll call Jim first thing in the morning, _he promised himself as he grabbed his pajamas from a dresser.

..................................................................................................................................................................................

Jim Gordon allowed himself to relax even further into his favorite Lazy-boy, struggling to keep his eyes off of his phone. He had betrayed himself a little when he had gotten home, making some more calls and doing some more work. But, he had finally managed to restrain himself, placing the damnable phone out of his current reach.

He hoped that it was enough to give himself a small respite from his worries.

Feeling that sleep was near, Jim told himself to get up and relocate to his bed, which was far more comfortable, and less likely to give him muscle sores when he woke up.

_I'll go. _

Turning his head just a little bit, Jim nestled even further into the confines of the soft, familiar fabric.

_I really will. _

Giving up, his tired eyes closed, and Jim Gordon finally let sleep take him.

_Just not yet. _

_..................................................................................................................................................................................._

In Trenton, Betty turned over fitfully in her sleep. A part of her knew that she was dreaming, but the rest of her couldn't help but feel troubled by what she was seeing...

_Harvey Dent lay in his hospital bed, totally limp. The eye on the unscarred side of his face was glazed over, giving the piercing blue a milky white look. Betty couldn't help but feel revulsion sweep through her as she recognized the all too familiar stench of death assault her nostrils. _

_Backing away, she held her arm over her nose, trying to drown out the smell. But it wasn't working. If anything, it only grew stronger. _

_"Doctor..." a voice croaked. _

_Staring, Betty found that it was indeed Harvey Dent who had spoken. He sounded so lost, so confused..._

_Instinctively, she moved forward towards the stricken man. But then, he spoke again. _

_"Why didn't you help me?" he asked, his face crumpling with unimaginable hurt and confusion. _

_Taken aback, Betty couldn't help but gawk at him for a moment. "What?" _

_"You heard me," Harvey said, his tone hardening and becoming frostily cold. _

_Unsure of what to do, the doctor didn't give him a reply. What could she say? She wasn't even sure what he was talking about._

_Seeing that he wasn't getting a response, Harvey's face changed, his brows coming together and his eyes brimming with water. He stared at her as if she were monstrous, his visage a scowl of hatred and fear. _

_"WHY DIDN'T YOU HELP ME?" he screamed, jerking his arms wildly against the handcuffs that kept him connected to the bed. Tears now flowed freely down his face, dripping off of his cheeks and staining the light blue of his hospital gown. _

_In pure terror, Betty was affixed to her spot, unable to move. Every part of her body and mind was screaming at her, telling her to do something for the distraught man before her. But she remained where she was, forced to watch as Harvey continued to struggle in vain against his restraints, sobbing the whole time. _

_Finally, he seemed to have tired himself out, as he collapsed back against the pillows under his head. "Why couldn't you save me?" he murmured quietly, before falling back into unconsciousness. _

_.................................................................................................................................................................................................. _

Officer Romirez wasn't having a better night. She was currently in her bed, trying to get to sleep. But, try as she might, rest wouldn't come to her.

Of course, the fact that she couldn't sleep on her one side due to the pain in her face didn't help matters any, but that wasn't the main reason for her discomfort. Her conscious was eating away at her, screaming its protests to her her about everything in her life, its voice a mixture of her fathers and Harvey Dent's.

_"...because she trusted you! Just like Rachel did..." _

_"Kiddo,you listen to me. Do your old man a favor, and don't get involved with the mob! You hear me?" _

Their words echoed in her mind, blaming her for her weakness, accusing her for her faults.

And, what was worse, was the knowledge that she would have to go into work tomorrow morning.

..........................................................................................................................................................................................

Harvey Dent was barely able to dream of anything. But, his lucid mind was conjuring up images of Rachel for him.

_She waved at him enthusiastically from across the store, looking absolutely gorgeous in a lacy wedding gown. Around her, a group of women appraised her, making comments about the dress and asking her if she knew what color the bride's maids should wear. _

_Harvey smiled back at her, laughing at how much she was enjoying herself. Even though Rachel was a tough and professional woman, it seemed that she had a girlish love about planning her own wedding. _

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Harvey was aware that this was all wrong, and that Rachel couldn't possibly be standing right in front of him. But that thought was quickly silenced, as he returned back to his pleasant fantasy, savoring having Rachel near him once more.

_The little old woman who ran the shop approached Rachel_, _clicking her tongue slightly as she hustled forward with a measuring tape. _

_"Well, the dress fits you very nicely dear," she began "but I think that we'll have to take a little bit off if the bottom, we don't want it to drag now!" _

_Perfectly content, Harvey sighed. He really did have his own work to do, picking out either a nice suit or tuxedo of his won for the wedding. But, right here, right now, he was perfectly happy to watch Rachel, her face glowing with excitement and hope. _

_Soon, that woman will be my wife, he thought. Hardly able to contain himself, Harvey smiled, breathing in the joy in the room as if it were tangible. He just knew that everything was going to be all right. Because he had Rachel, and she was all that really mattered. _


End file.
